


Roman - Feathers

by gottawriteanegoortwo



Series: Sanders Sides (No Ships) [7]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Gen, Janus appears briefly in the second chapter. Not enough to warrant a character tag imo, No side is unsympathetic, Self-Esteem Issues, are you a prince and feeling belittled?, it's alluded in the second chapter but it's in his head, mention of transformation, sad roman hours, self-imposed mockery and belittlement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26272552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottawriteanegoortwo/pseuds/gottawriteanegoortwo
Summary: The pressure weighing Roman down is too much. Overwhelmed by it all, he cracks as his own animal influence manifests.
Series: Sanders Sides (No Ships) [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870696
Comments: 15
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

It was too much.

The stress. The disappointment. Constantly never being good enough.

Roman had locked himself in his room. No Side could get in, and he had no intention of going out. Not yet. Not until he was able to come up with the perfect idea. Something that may not be truly original, but it would be truly his. It had to be as perfect as a snowball and allowed to roll into something phenomenal when placed at the top of the hill. It had to be _the one._

The one that would have Logan approve.

The one that Virgil wouldn't roll his eyes at.

The one that would make Patton smile.

**The one that would make Thomas proud of him.**

The scrunched up paper balls littered the floor until the wooden floor could barely be seen. Several pencils and quills were snapped in two on the desk. Ink had stained the page, but went unnoticed. His hands tightly gripped his hair once he forced himself onto his feet to pace the room. Nothing good came of anything he tried to start!

He just wanted to help Thomas. What was so hard to believe about that? He wanted to help his host reach new heights and chase those dreams when the going was good. Yet the longer the struggle went on, the more it became clear that the Prince's voice was going unheard. Sure! He could take a loss and admit that _maybe_ Logan had a point about the importance of stability in life. He could hold his head up and admit that _maybe_ some of his dream goals were too far-fetched and they should stick to more reasonable goal posts! But now, it seemed like every aspect of Roman's job was being thrown into the trash. Did the others forget that Creativity didn’t flourish because Roman merely existed? Did they forget that he has poured blood, sweat, and tears into working, writing, plotting, drafting just to try and help reach deadlines over the years? And for all of that? Thomas rarely summoned him for brainstorming sessions anymore; and when he did it would fizzle out with "I'm not sure this is what I'm looking for".

He needed to work and push himself to be better than he could ever be to ensure Thomas could thrive. Nothing was good enough. Ideas were as flimsy as feathers caught in the breeze.

He would swear the others were judging him. Logan could probably use his ‘logic’ to try and come up with his own form of creativity, exactly like how he tried to one-up Virgil. Patton would suddenly turn into his biggest fan and good intentions would plummet into condescending actions. Virgil would relish this, Roman was sure of that. After years of being insulted, the chance for payback was long overdue. Why genuinely care about someone so self-centered that he didn’t seem to care about others, and once insisted the others didn’t ‘get’ him? He might be Thomas’ pride and ego, but it didn’t excuse how he’s behaved.

If Thomas’ ego was revealed to be more fragile than it ought to be, then what would that do to Thomas? How would that shake his confidence when that is one of the most important pieces needed to survive as an actor and performer?

But even at a basic level… Who _was_ he? Was he a prince? An actor? A hero? A fragile ego fanning his peacock tail in feigned bravado?

Torn by doubt, he let out an agonising cry. Large, brown wings ripped through his jacket with unprecedented pain. As the torn sleeves dropped to the floor, matching feathers began pricking through his skin and covering his forearms. The half-bird royal sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face. The hawk wings wrapped around him like an attempt at a comforting hug. No one could see how the proud prince had fallen. No one could know the prince had cracked.

He'd put on the mask. He'd play the part, even if he doesn’t know who he ought to be anymore. Thomas couldn’t afford artist’s block because Roman felt sorry for himself. 

_Boo-hoo! Pull yourself together, you fool! You have work to do!_

\--

He would pull himself together. He had to. Pick up the pieces, and hide any proof of uncertainty. The feathers that fall from the wings would replace the broken quills.

None of the Sides needed to know their real origin.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst... Is not something I'm good at. But if I wanna get better, I have to start somewhere.
> 
> Roman really needs a hug, tbh.
> 
> EDIT, 04/09/2020: Har har nothing like re-reading your work ten minutes after waking the next day and noticing you left something in that should have been deleted. I swear I proof-read this three times last night...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, wings do not magically disappear overnight.

When the Sides were called down for breakfast, they were surprised to see Roman emerge wearing a cloak that fell to his ankles.

It was a beautiful cloak, sewn by the prince himself in times of adventures in the Imagination's frosty wastelands. It was off-white with red trimming and small embroidered snowflakes. The material was thick and incredibly soft to the touch. However, it wasn't something the Sides would expect anyone to wear when Thomas lived in Florida and the weather wasn't that cold, least of all the Side who was naturally the warmest of them all.

"Something wrong, kiddo?" Patton asked with concern as Roman sat at the table.

"I can't keep warm today. I don't want to get sick so I'm planning ahead." The prince's statement was backed up by the sight of his normal regal attire underneath, along with a pair of white gloves. "I might stay in my room today and try to shake this off."

"It would seem the sensible conclusion. It might help flush it out of your system before you or Thomas fall ill. I recommend everyone else take necessary precautions in case Thomas is coming down with a cold. Extra rest, vitamins, whatever might be deemed necessary to prevent anything happening." Logan's instructions were met with a nod from the others. 

But Roman wasn't cold. He could feel Janus' eyes on him as he begrudgingly ate breakfast. He had to put on an act. He'd kept this miserable truth to himself for years now. Not for "repression" or anything like that, but because of shame.

The wings that had sprouted the previous night had not disappeared. The feathers still covered Roman's arms. If he wasn't careful, it could get worse, and he didn't want to see what would happen next. Not only that, he was too proud to let the others know the truth.

* * *

"Actually… Roman? Before you go, I'd like to run something by you." Janus' voice tripped Roman up just before he could cross the metaphorical finish line of escaping.

"Sure. I suppose I could spare a few minutes." Roman turned with a smile, only to be greeted by an unimpressed look. Wonderful. Janus nodded toward the unused office - one of the "common room work spaces" should multiple Sides need to work together. To Roman's relief, Janus did have questions about how to best improve Thomas' approach to a work-related matter based on some constructive criticism from peers. He knew his answers weren't as energetic as usual, but surely he could be forgiven for that if he was assumed ill.

"You're looking rather flushed for someone who claims to be cold." Janus' comment was delivered as plainly as earlier facts as he jotted something onto a page. "If you're going to parade around feeling sorry for yourself, could you at least come up with a better excuse next time?"

"Well, I'm  _ sorry _ I've never had to worry about the living lie detector hanging around." Roman snapped, turning his head to the side with a scowl. "I just need to get through today and then it'll be fine - what?" He interrupted himself as he heard Janus sigh and shake his head.

"Are all of you like this? Keen to hide everything away like it's some big secret? It's an act that is tiring fast. Repression is not going to make problems go away. It only makes them worse. How many times must I - "

"I'm not repressing anything! I'm  _ not  _ well, I  _ am  _ relying on this cloak for comfort, so what if it's not me feeling miserable because of a cold?"

"So you're touch-starved and that's your solution?"

"No it is not! Why I do this is none of your business, no matter how much you want to come in and magically fix everyone's problems like you haven't been a nuisance for years beforehand!" One of several reasons why Roman was sick of seeing Janus around - the snake was far too invasive and nosy. "If it'll serve to get you off my back and leave me alone, I'm not feeling like my normal, fabulous self. It's what happens when I get hit by Thomas' tiredness because of his work. That's why I'm staying in my room today, so I can rest. Just like you told Thomas during one of your ‘self-care’ speeches. Are you happy now?" Roman knew Janus wasn't content with that answer, but Roman was too frustrated to care beyond that.

"Roman -" But it was too late. The prince had turned and stormed out. The sound of a door slamming could be heard in the distance, and Janus would expect the click of a lock swiftly followed.

* * *

Inside the room, the cloak was sharply tugged off and dumped to the floor, followed by his jacket. On reflex, the wings spread to their full width in the relief of not being caught under the heavy material. Roman staggered toward the bed frame for support, briefly unable to balance with the burden on his back. If this were something he could control, there would be no doubt Roman would brag about it to the others. He could give himself wings! How cool was that?

In reality, wings were not fun. Not when he was always stuck in his room when they appeared. They were heavy, large, and cumbersome. Roman knew he had knocked some items when they sprouted last night, and trying to pick them up would only dislodge other things. They would probably support his weight and he could fly, but it wasn’t like he could fly away from his problems. Besides, flying in the Imagination would run the risk of Remus knowing and… Best not to consider what his twin might do. 

Every Side was linked with an animal, though it wasn’t something that was innately known. Logan had surmised that the group were originally intended to appear as animals, but quickly changed as Thomas grew into a toddler. Despite now being human, the dormant ‘coding’ for being an animal of some sort was still there. What the animal was and how it might manifest seemed to differ from one Side to another. Everyone had assumed Patton was a dog (including Patton himself) until he broke down and turned into a frog. Your personality or traits didn’t necessarily provide a clue. 

Which returned Roman to a familiar lament. Why couldn’t he display different animal traits under pressure, or even be able to so at will? He could have been a dragon, a lion, a manticore! But no, he was a bird - or a hawk, to be slightly more accurate. When the weight of Thomas’ world was too heavy to bear, the pressure physically manifested in a pair of wings that he couldn’t take his mind off no matter how he tried. Those, along with the feathers covering his arms, were the furthest he had seen of his own ‘shift’. A bird with a six-pack seemed highly unappealing…

Or worse! What if he simply disappeared in a puff of smoke, only to emerge as a literal hawk? The amount of fanart that portrayed Patton or Janus doing that was surprising. It would be humiliating! Roman - Thomas' Creativity, Passion, Hopes and Dreams, Pride - nothing more than a bird. Oh, how the others would get a kick out of that. It would explain so much about Roman after all!

_ "No wonder you're so flighty all the time..." _

_ "Hah! You really are an airhead! The fans are right to think of you as an idiot who fucks up all the time!" _

_ "I suppose this would explain why you act as though you have figuratively crashed into a window so frequently…" _

_ "Come here, prince. Let's clip those wings. They're just more things you never use and hide away anyway!" _

_ "No wonder your work is so shit." _

Ah. The taunts were back in full swing this time. In moments like this, hiding the pain by working on something creative was fruitless. Doubts would creep in, giving ideas of how the others would react. Jeering him about how precisely he would fail again. 

Reminding him how much they all truly hated him.

If he could drop the part of being the main Creativity and toss it to his brother, he would. Remus was the preferred one with the fans anyway. He'd probably do a better job. If the way the feathers pricked at his skin was an indication, he was right in his hunch. Roman could back off, maybe even allow himself to resume his original purpose of being metaphorical creative guidance. Can't blame someone who doesn't exist anymore.

When this used to happen years ago, Roman would find a way to reach out to someone from within his room and seek that validation that everything was okay. But look at him now. He pulled on a bravado over time. Puffed up his feathers and started acting like a jerk to everyone. No one bothered to look at someone who seemed slightly stressed at best. It was easier to roll your eyes when the arrogant, cocky prince made some outlandish statement instead of wondering  _ why _ he said it.

He really was a terrible candidate for being Thomas' personification of ego, huh? At least Thomas himself was a far better person than Roman ever would be.

Roman pulled himself onto his feet, swaying slightly as the wings seemed to grow heavier with the truth that he could stay in this room and no one would miss him.

So he would do that.

Wrap the king-size quilt around him. Trap the wings and pin them against his back like he could force them to disappear. Hide himself under the covers and hope that maybe the Thomasphere would be generous and allow the rest of him to disappear too.

It might even be the one time he does something right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tmw your Roman muse desperately needs a hug, but refuses to talk to any Side and wants to avoid every single one of them. Gotta love that awkward spot he's stuck in. :D
> 
> (also, hello it's 4am and I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd finish an old WIP. I have work in three hours)


End file.
